


Age Is But A Number

by FenarielTheDalishMage



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dorian totally going off on Varric, Drinking, Flashbacks, Magic, Out of control Magic, Some Fluff, Stuffed Halla Dolls, Varrics Third Biggest Fear, elven language, embarassment from fluff, getting shit faced drunk, meetings, scary old women, secret meetings, squeaking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 15:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4484393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FenarielTheDalishMage/pseuds/FenarielTheDalishMage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenariel Lavellan was nothing if not terrifying. All five feet, two inches and 118 pounds of him. When he got mad, you knew to run for cover lest you wanted to be incinerated, frozen, or electrocuted on the spot. Most people forgot the small fact that was…his age.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Age Is But A Number

**Author's Note:**

> Elven that isn't translatable is underlined. Flashbacks in italics. Letters and correspondences in italics unless they are in flashbacks then they are normal. Was originally going to make this a one chapter thing but I can never do that for some reason! Kind of frustrating but I had a lot of fun writing this chapter so I hope you guys enjoy.

Fenariel Lavellan was nothing if not terrifying. All five feet, two inches and 118 pounds of him. When he got mad, you knew to run for cover lest you wanted to be incinerated, frozen, or electrocuted on the spot. Most people forgot the small fact that was…his age. Never given any time to act like a child or have fun, that was the life of the first to the keeper. It certainly didn't change after the conclave when he was named herald of andraste, or when he was named inquisitor. The first time he ever showed that he actually was still a kid was the first time he had played pranks on his advisors with Sera. This brought a very important discussion to the inner circle on this spring afternoon as they all sat around the large fancy dining table having a “secret meeting”.

Refreshments had been supplied as the long discussion began. Thankfully the young elf had gone hunting by himself out in the Emerald Graves for the week, so they had time to investigate without having to worry about being caught.

Josephine sat at the head with a glass of wine in her hand and began the meeting. “Alright, the reason I have summoned you all is to bring an important matter to attention.” Everyone looked around confused as the ambassador continued. “After Sera’s…stress relieving last week, we all saw the inquisitor act like a teenager getting into trouble and having fun. So the question is raised…does anyone actually know how old the inquisitor is?”

Everyone seemed to simultaneously look down in shame. The man who had done everything for them, who always checked in to see if they were okay or to help them with personal matters, who personally made weapons and armor that would fit said person’s characteristics and likes, who never even asked for anything, and who had been given literally a world of responsibilities…they had never even asked his age. Some of the inner circle only knew his first name because of Cole! Even Bull, who was currently for lack of a better term “bedding” him didn't even know. That sort of thing didn't matter to the Qunari, that didn't mean he didn't have an estimation.

Bull looked up from his tankard. “Well, judging by the way he acts I'd say maybe around twenty-five? Maybe twenty-four.”

Cassandra thought for a moment. “Well, how old does he look? I can't tell. I really don't have that much experience with elves of different ages.”

They all looked to Solas and the older elf sighed as he sat back in his chair. “For elves it is quite difficult to judge these things based on actions and looks. Especially because he was the first to the keeper, he had to grow up at a very young age. You shouldn't be judging by his appearance or actions when he is surrounded by others, instead look at how he acts when he is alone.”

Sera grumbled as she got up out of her chair and banged on the table. “All of ya are friggin daft! Why not just ask him yerselves!”

“Because dear, that would make us look bad on our part.” Vivienne replied with a fake smile.

All of a sudden Cole appeared on top of a statue in the room and sat down, swinging his legs against the stone. “I know.”

Everyone but Solas and Varric had a small heart attack. “Maker’s breath! Cole don't do that!” Cullen went over and helped Sera up, who was now on the floor gripping her chest, eyes looking like they would pop out at any moment.

“And that's why I hate him! Friggin demon shite and all that!”

Varric chuckled as he motioned for Cole to come down. The spirit reappeared on a chair next to him, holding a stuffed Halla doll. “Kid, where'd you get that?”

“Riel made it for me. It's just like his, except this one is is gold. I named it Goldy.”

Varric smiled as he pat the spirit on the head. “So, you gonna tell us how old Trinket is?”

“…no.”

Dorian put his book down and arched an eyebrow at the spirit. “Why not?”

“Because he doesn't want you to know. He thinks that you'll think less of him. That's why he goes into the forest sometimes so that he can play.” The spirit hugged the doll and sat with his legs crossed on the chair. “They can't know, too many responsibilities. Fear tugging at old wounds knowing they'll look at me differently. What would they do? Would they make me leave after Corypheus is dead? Or would they treat me like a flower, so delicate and fragile. Maybe laugh and give me more responsibilities because they think I could handle it. I don't want to know.” Everyone looked around solemnly. “It hurts him sometimes but he hides the pain. He's good at hiding it and doesn't like it when I try to help. It makes him hurt more…so I don't.”

Bull groaned as he crossed his arms. “Why not just ask his clan?”

Everyone looked dumbfounded. Why did no one think of that in the first place!

A letter was soon sent to the clan.

_Dear Keeper Lavellan,_

_My name is Josephine Montilyet and I am the ambassador for the Inquisition. A question has arisen and I am sure that he has his reasons, but the Inquisitor refuses to answer. It confuses many of us and the answer still eludes us. We would like your help in the matter. How old is the inquisitor?_

_With sincerest regards,_

_Josephine Montilyet._

 

_Dear Ambassador,_

_It does not surprise me that Fenariel would not want to reveal his age. The boy has always felt the need to hide it because of how early he mastered things. As I am sure you know, he is brilliant in many things and he fears that others would stop listening to him once they know. He has good reasons too. Many did not respect him as the first to the keeper should be because his magic manifested so early. Our second to the keeper at the time, now first to the keeper (some days I think sadly) always went over him and tried to make decisions that the first should make. The worst part was, that stubborn boy never told me about it an I ended up discovering it from the lead halla herder. Sad, I know but I digress. You would not want to hear an old woman rant. Fenariel is seventeen, he had just turned seventeen about two weeks before the conclave, so many were opposed to sending him there, but I see now that I made the right choice. I hope this helps both Fenariel and the inquisition and I wish you luck with dealing with that stubborn child that I love so much. But be warned: if by some chance you do something that would affect the boy negatively in anyway after discovering this, you will regret it._

_With regards,_

_Keeper Deshanna Istimaethorial Lavellan._

~

Within four days the letters were exchanged. After Josephine finished reading the letter out loud everyone was pale and frankly…terrified. “Well…damn. Looks like my second greatest fear is now old Elvhen women with an affinity for magic.”

“Out of curiosity Varric, what's now your third greatest fear?”

“Ha! Hero you really want to know?”

“Well if I didn't, I wouldn't have asked now would I?”

“Trinket, when he's drunk. Never again will I buy that kid a pint! I thought that he was going to blow the roof off of the tavern.”

“Oh I’ve got to hear this!”

“Okay so I was drinking with the Chargers-”

“Oh I remember this one!”

“Tiny! Let me finish. As I was saying-I was drinking with some of the Chargers one night when Trinket walked in…”

_Fenariel was tired, frustrated, exhausted and frankly pissed off. He had just come from probably the most stressful event of his life...ever. He had spent five continuos hours listening to nobles gossip and complain and praise and argue and complain some more. He would never in ten ages understand shemlen and their “game”. But he had to be there anyway because he was the Inquisitor. All he wanted to do was go drag himself up the stairs, get his stuffed Halla and his large bed warmer, Iron Bull, snuggle up and go to sleep, screw sex! He was tired. So how mad do you think he was when he went up to his room, after escaping about twenty nobles, only to find his bed empty and a note on the nightstand._

Kadan,

Going to be drinking with the boys. Why don't you join us after, knowing you you'll need something to get your mind off of it. You're probably not going to want to fool around tonight so just come down to the tavern and get shit faced with us! It'll be fun, I promise. See you there.

-Bull

_Fenariel growled deeply in his throat. Once he stepped foot into the main hall, he would be mauled…again. So it looked like it was time to go with plan B. He always had escape plans in place just in case he ever needed to escape from…well they were there for a reason. The elf could honestly say that he was, a pure genius. He was usually not one to brag but he took a moment to admire his handiwork that no one knew about. The ancient elves were nothing if not careful. Leading from the main tower was a hidden passage that went from his bedroom all the way to the large room that led into the kitchen. He happened to find the glyph to activate it a while back when he was decorating. He kind of impaled a large tree branch through a hole in the wall, that Josephine had covered up, but the mortar wasn't dry yet so all it took was a small amount of magic to blast it back open. He had good reasons, he hated shemlen beds! It was much more comfortable to sleep in a tree so with a little help from the fade, he coaxed a small sapling to grow until it was tall enough and then a branch grew through the whole. No one really bothered him about it because he said that he liked the birds that had been living in the tower and felt bad about taking their home. So after changing into his Skyhold attire, which in his opinion looked like pajamas and he obviously wouldn't wear those boots even if his life depended on it, he activated the small glyph hidden in the upper part of the room and slowly crept through the passage._

_Once he got out of the kitchen and into the open air near the stables, he breathed a sigh of relief and headed towards the tavern. He was still pissed at Bull for not waiting for him but he could understand._

_He entered the tavern and walked over to the corner where the Chargers drank. Frankly he didn't even think they left the chairs at all during the day. “Your worship! Glad you could join us.” Krem handed the elf a tankard and then went back to telling a story to Skinner._

_“Hey Trinket, so how was it?”_

_Fenariel slumped into Bull’s lap and sniffed what was in his mug then set it down. “I would rather dance the waltz with Corypheus than do that again! Do you think that he'd step on my toes?” Everyone started laughing and the elf just beamed. Bull growled lovingly in his ear and nipped at the tip causing the elf to squeak._

_All the Chargers and even Varric stopped talking all at once and Looked at the now blushing elf. “Dirthara ma! You damn Kossith!” Fenariel yanked on one of Bull’s horns and picked up his tankard, trying to hide his face in the large mug._

_Varric had to do a double take before processing what had just happened. “Trinket, did you just…squeak?” Everyone's mouths were open now in varying looks of disbelief._

_“Oy! He does a lot more than squeak! I've heard ‘em! ‘Oh! Oh! Shemel! Shemel!” Sera snickered as she dodged a small bolt of electricity and returned to hanging upside down on a beam. “That's cheatin’!”_

_“Sera! Stop it!” Fenariel was now scarlet red as he buried his face in Bull’s chest. “I hate you all.” They all laughed at the now red elf trying to burrow into the Qunari. “And that's not even the correct pronunciation.”_

_Half of the Chargers were on the floor at this point holding there sides and gasping for breath. A couple of them whispered something to Dalish and she just got up and shook her head. “No way in hell am I translatin’ that! I'm goin’ to go get another round.”_

_Fenariel chugged the mug in front of him and all of them stared as they watched the scrawny little elf down the mug and slam it on the table. A second later Fenariel was coughing and holding his throat like it was on fire. “Um Trinket, probably not the best move. I'm pretty sure that was Tiny’s mug.”_

_Bull looked worried as he turned the elf to sit facing him. “Hey Kadan, you ok?”_

_“I feel like I just swallowed a fire rune. What in the void were you drinking?”_

_Bull just shook his head and smiled at the elf and turned him back around. “Qunari beer. I wouldn't be surprised if there actually was a fire rune in there.” In a few short minutes the elf's face had turned completely red and his pupils had enlarged to give him puppy dog eyes. He swayed a bit in Bull’s lap as he tried to stay focused. Bull laughed as he steadied the elf._

_“Well I guess that settles it, Trinket’s a light weight.”_

_“No that one tankard probably equals about ten mugs of Ferelden beer.” Everyone looked surprised that the little elf hadn't passed out yet._

_“Well, I just lost a bet. Damn I owe Ruffles fifteen sovereigns.”_

_“ You're betting on how much liquor I can hold? You damn Durgen'len! Go shove your manuscript up your ass!” They all looked at the inquisitor as he now had switched fully over to Elvhen. _

Dalish snorted and laughed into her mug. “I could only make out a little of that but he said somethin’ about beer and shovin’ a book? Yeah a book up somewhere. But I don't think you need to speak Elvhen to know where he was going with that one.” Everyone started chuckling.

_All of a sudden Varric's tankard burst and the dwarf was now covered in cheap ferelden beer. “Ha ha very funny Trinket.”_

_Thankfully no one else was in the tavern at that time of night so not many people knew about what happened next. It was pretty much all a blur for everyone but it ended up with all the Chargers, Varric, Sera, and a very drunk Fenariel who was being held up by Bull all sitting outside of the tavern on the ground catching there breath as smoke exited through the tavern’s open windows and scorch marks and patches of ice covered the walls. Vivienne, Josephine, Cullen, and Cassandra ran out into the courtyard to see what had happened. Last to get there was Dorian who now walked to the front._

_“Fasta vas! Did you get him drunk?” The Altus picked up the inquisitor in his arms and waved his hand, which was glowing a warm pink, over the elf's face. Fenariel's head instantly drooped and his whole body relaxed._

_“What the hell did you just do!” Bull came charging towards him but the Altus just held out a hand._

_“I just created the solution.”_

_“Okay now I'm definitely confused.”_

_“Ugh, you big lug! Who the hell got him drunk!”_

_Varric started whistling and backing away slowly until he bumped into something angry, and covered in metal. “Oh, hey Seeker! What's going on? Crazy night, huh?”_

_Dorian sighed as he handed the elf's limp body to Bull. “Don't worry, he's just sleeping. Other than the massive hangover he’ll have tomorrow, he's fine.” Dorian turned to Varric and the mage was back to being pissed. “Varric, have you ever seen the inquisitor drink?”_

_The dwarf thought for a minute. “…no.”_

_“And why do you suppose that is?”_

_“I just thought he didn't like getting wasted in front of others.”_

_“No. Well maybe that's how it started out but the inquisitor here is a very powerful mage. He has a very good grasp on how to control his magic…most of the time. On the rare occasion that he does lose control, there is usually only one reason. THE MAN CANT CONTROL HIS DAMN MAGIC WHEN YOU GET HIM SHIT FACED DRUNK!” Dorian sighed and rubbed his temples and returned to speaking very softly and composed. “I suggest you all remember this, the next time you try to bet on how much of a light weight our dear inquisitor is.” With that the mage sauntered off back to the library leaving everyone staring wide eyed at the now adorable sleeping elf that lay in the qunari's arms._

“-morale of the story, never get Trinket drunk.” The dwarf leaned back in his chair grinning at his amazing story telling skills.


End file.
